Dear Gordon
I've been following your Doctors' Plot, and frankly, I'm disappointed. Our Timothy McVeigh, with only a high school education, built a very impressive truck bomb in Oklahoma City some years back. Your guys are doctors, and they couldn't even blow up a car in Picadilly. It doesn't take any skills to smash a van into an airport terminal, especially when you know you're about to be arrested because your left your phone behind. Using Mercedes was a nice touch, though -- apparently your physicians do all right in spite of the National Health.
We look to you for frothing demagogues and disaffected youth, and you're giving us the kind of sad losers we can grow right here. Remember the old men who were going to blow up Kennedy Airport, if they could just get hold of some explosives? Or the slacker terrorists who taped themselves plotting in a suburban rec room: "So we get some pizzas, right, and we go over to Fort Dix? Like, they gotta let us in with pizzas." "Dude, should we get different toppings or all the same?" "How much money do we have?" Plots that are foiled not by the FBI, but by the kid who does the video transfers at Fotomat.
Please understand: We depend on you. We have a huge government bureaucracy called the Department of Homeland Security, whose sole purpose is to keep Americans frightened so they won't object to the loss of their freedoms, or ask if it's really a good idea to give assault rifles to the shoot-first-think-later cops who killed Amadou Diallo and Sean Bell with ordinary handguns. Without the periodic panics triggered by bombshells like last summer's Hair Gel Plot (well done!), how can we justify its enormous budget, accumulated by steadily de-funding frills like education, meat inspectors and air traffic control?
As you re-organize your government and cobble together your constitution, please to keep us in mind, Gordon. What about a Ministry of Excitable Anxiety? MI-9, devoted entirely to sheep bombs? The occasional firecracker set off at Royal Ascot or Wimbledon would be much appreciated. Anything to keep the Terror Alert Level nice and high until our next elections. And yours, of course, my dear prime minister.
So long, and thanks for all the fear.
We look to you for frothing demagogues and disaffected youth, and you're giving us the kind of sad losers we can grow right here. Remember the old men who were going to blow up Kennedy Airport, if they could just get hold of some explosives? Or the slacker terrorists who taped themselves plotting in a suburban rec room: "So we get some pizzas, right, and we go over to Fort Dix? Like, they gotta let us in with pizzas." "Dude, should we get different toppings or all the same?" "How much money do we have?" Plots that are foiled not by the FBI, but by the kid who does the video transfers at Fotomat.
Please understand: We depend on you. We have a huge government bureaucracy called the Department of Homeland Security, whose sole purpose is to keep Americans frightened so they won't object to the loss of their freedoms, or ask if it's really a good idea to give assault rifles to the shoot-first-think-later cops who killed Amadou Diallo and Sean Bell with ordinary handguns. Without the periodic panics triggered by bombshells like last summer's Hair Gel Plot (well done!), how can we justify its enormous budget, accumulated by steadily de-funding frills like education, meat inspectors and air traffic control?
As you re-organize your government and cobble together your constitution, please to keep us in mind, Gordon. What about a Ministry of Excitable Anxiety? MI-9, devoted entirely to sheep bombs? The occasional firecracker set off at Royal Ascot or Wimbledon would be much appreciated. Anything to keep the Terror Alert Level nice and high until our next elections. And yours, of course, my dear prime minister.
So long, and thanks for all the fear.
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